Zombies in Manhattan
by YourGreatestDream
Summary: Rated M for violence and later sexual scenes. Zombies, guns, and sexy red-heads. Roxas has been a lone survivor for two years since the outbreak, and his first contact with another live soul is a sexy flame haired man with a gun pointed at Roxie's head. Well, shit. Mainly Akuroku, slight Zemyx, eventual Soriku.
1. Chapter 1: Alone and Armed

A/N: Yeah, not such an original title for a story, but it's gettin late, and my brain is fried. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom hearts.

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**Chapter One: Alone and Armed**

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Sighing, Roxas slumped against the outer walls of the Empire State Building, sliding exhausted to the ground.

Littering the ground before him, bleeding into the untrimmed grass and crystal blue fountains, were scores of rotting corpses riddled with holes.

Fucking zombies.

Roxas pulled back the release on the rifle he held, letting empty bullet casings fly loose around him. How long had he been running from these rotten sons of bitches? Two years? Three? It had been too long since he last looked at a calendar.

The sun was high in the sky, torching the gross remains of the zombies until the stench rolled off them in waves. Roxas grimaced, wrinkling his nose in distaste and got back up onto his legs before gasping. Pain wrought through him, making him grab hold of the glass exterior of the building in a daze. Sweaty blonde hair clung to the front of his face, obscuring his vision so that he blinked the hair out of his oceanic blue eyes.

Shit. His legs were fried. Running meant you lived to see another day, unless you happened to try running from a horde. He had been traveling the daylight hours, being quiet as he could ever be. With empty streets, rules were thrown out the window.

At the start of the apocalypse, civilians stripped the stores of all their merchandise in order to stock up on food, before holing themselves up in their houses or wherever they thought was safest. Stores were robbed, guns were stolen and traded, and things like curtesy was left to the wolves.

The more people got eaten, the more humans were converted to walking, reeking, flesh-ripping morons. That was three years ago.

Roxas hadn't seen a human soul since.

Luckily, the zombies loved to hunt at night. That left the streets bare to roam around on during the day, free to anyone brave enough, or smart enough, to not sit in one place until the zombies caught wind of your scent.

To Roxas, that meant freedom. He could go anywhere he wanted to now. Nothing like broadway, Disney world, or the White House meant anything anymore. So why not visit Manhattan? The one place he'd always wanted to go since he was a kid?

That mistake almost cost him his life.

Fuck. Roxas stretched his back and rolled his soar shoulders. That was two magazines of ammo used up. He only had one left, and that was for the Baretta M9 gracing the holster at his hip. Lowering his AK-47 rifle, he felt empty without the extra fire power.

He only wanted to see the icon of New York, that's all! Now Roxas had to swing by the nearest gun-bank and raid a new weapon and some ammo. Fuckin' cannibalistic rotties, ruining his day. Roxas panted as he bent over his knees to catch his breath.

Had he not been so exhausted, the blonde might have heard the skyscraper's sliding door open, or the quick footsteps leading up beside him. However, in the state he was in, he only noticed the person once he felt the nozzle of a pistol rub against his scull.

Fuck-ing hell.

Roxas froze, his body paralyzed at the thought of another human being possibly being next to him, and the second and more sane acknowledgement of the deadly weapon threatening to kill him. He heard a low, baritone chuckle bubble up to the surface next to him.

"Turn around slowly." The voice said. Oh god, who in the deepest pits of hell could own such an alluring voice? If the United States still existed, that voice would be illegal in all fifty states.

Obliging to the voice's command, Roxas turn slowly towards the one holding his life in his...oddly large and rough hands, with a touch of a tan. Long arms lead up to some lean muscle and a thin figure with roaring red hair and mischievous green eyes that were now cautious and ... very hot with twin tear tattoos running down each cheek.

Across the man's firm chest a black, ripped wife beater hugged his abdomen, a showing every cut detail. Over his shoulders rested a red toned aviator jacket left open to sway with the breeze. Washout jeans ripped at the knees worshipped his hips, above a pair of black combat boots.

Blinking, Roxas mentally shook his head as he frowned to the tall man. The first human he'd seen in years. What should he say? What do you say to a person? Hello, please don't shoot the ever loving crap out of me?

"...Hi?" Roxas managed to croak out, his voice rough from two and a half years of neglect. Inside, he scorned himself for the failure. Never having someone to talk to, he had almost forgotten how to even communicate.

The man with fuckin' fire for hair seemed to grin before lowering his desert eagle toward Roxas' chest. "Are you bitten?"

Roxas processed the English words in his head a bit. Letting his mind gloss over the previous skirmish he had with his dead company, he knew he wasn't bitten.

Roxas shook his head.

"You don't talk much do you?" The man put the gun away, much to the blonde's relief, and held out a hand to help him up. "The name's Axel. Come inside, Zexion'll fix you up."

Roxas couldn't believe his ears. "There's..._more_?"

"More what? More humans?" Axel rubbed the back of his head, his hair ruffling softly against his rough hands. "Yeah. There's more of us."

A miracle. A fucking miracle.

"How...?" Roxas managed to say clearly, his mind arguing with him that there's no possible way that a group of humans could survive in the tallest skyscraper in America. It was a trap essentially. If zombies got in, there would be no escape without a helicopter or a para-shoot to jump out the windows, in which case the zombies would see you floating away and wait at the landing point with their mouths open like sharks awaiting their daily meal at a zoo.

How...had they survived?

"Let's get you inside before we answer questions. It's daylight, but it's New York...crowded with zombies like a city of death." Axel helped Roxas up with his outstretched hand and lead him to he sliding doors. "Welcome, to our fortress of defense. Castle Oblivion."

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**So, tell me what you all think. Should I continue this whim of mine and write a zombie-based Akuroku fic?**

**Let me know! Please review, and be free to offer any ideas you might have for where this story could go.**


	2. Chapter 2: Heavy Artillery

**A/N**: Daylight savings time is a bitch in the Spring. Lost an hours worth of sleep and now my whole sleep pattern is messed up. Today I felt as if I had lethargy pulling on the back of my head like a ten-ton anvil. I'm tired, but I'm writing. I'm writing again! How exciting is that!

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Kingdom Hearts. If I did, I'd have the nobodies pursue yaoi trying to find their hearts instead of capturing hearts with keyblades.

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**Chapter 2: Heavy Artillery**

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The inside of the Empire State Building looked like a full on military base on steroids. The exterior of the building might not have looked any different than it was before the outbreak, but the inside took renovations to lethal extremes. The windows were barred all around for five floors up with reinforced metal plates five inches thick. Where Roxas stood at the entrance to the first floor, he saw every precaution they would ever need. Lined up and nailed to the floor were machine guns fixed up to tripods; Belgian rifles, Sig Sauer M400 rifles , and semi-automatic rifles lined the inner walls, hanging from well-placed nails and hooks. Castle Oblivion it was... a castle that could blow the whole island to oblivion. Roxas let his gaze wonder the room and realized that there was only him and the tall, flame-haired man that was sex on legs.

Roxas gave voice to his thoughts, his throat getting used to talking once more. The back of his vocal cords made his voice sound rough as though he'd escaped the Sahara desert, not the beautiful city of Manhattan. "You said there were others."

"You think they'd all stay on the same floor? We have this whole damn skyscraper to ourselves. The elevator still works, so there are 102 floors they could possibly be in." Axel walked over to what looked like the receptionist desk, and tapped into the corded phone. "Vexen installed an intercom but the fucking thing reaches only some of the lower floors; I can't guarantee everyone will hear it."

Roxas eyed the rifles on the wall next to him as he followed after Axel. He let his own, pitifully empty weapon's strap slip from his shoulder and fall gently to the floor. No more raiding gun ranges or red-neck cottages, if he stayed here he would have an entire arsenal at his disposal.

Static frequency filled the speakers with a sound pitch until Axel spoke through the mic, his naturally seductive voice carrying a tone of carefree demand that was multiplied in volume through-out the skyscraper, static interference blocking few syllables from being projected. "Everyone who can hear me through this fuckin' thing get your asses down here, we have a code thirteen."

Pricking his ears up at the coded message, Roxas turned to Axel as the man closed up the intercom. "What's code thirteen?"

"It's code for 'survivor'." Axel said, his inquiring, deep emerald eyes looking over the boy assessively as he directed his smooth-as-sin voice to Roxas. "How the hell have you survived for two years? You must have had help from someone. ...A team?"

Roxas shook his head.

"Underground base?"

Another no.

"C'mon, gimme something. You're leaving me out on a limb here."

Roxas looked away, his head down and his eyes cold. He had seen things that teenagers his age shouldn't have to ever live through. He'd seen hell, and zombies were flies compared to it.

"I can't tell you that." Roxas deadpanned, letting his hand brush over the machine guns on the reception table, the metal work and raw power heating up at the touch. "All you need to know about me is I've been on the run since the beginning and never stopped. But I am curious, how on Earth did you make _this_ happen?"

At the word 'this' Roxas gestured with his free hand out to the room in its upgraded glory.

Axel smiled. If Roxas thought the man's voice was sexy, he was in for a world of wrong. That grin brought shivers racing down his spine like trickles of cold water that lit his gut ablaze. "We got damn lucky, that's how."

Roxas, ignoring the alien sensation, felt his eyebrows furrow together in confusion as he waited for an explanation.

"The day the contagion began, the Empire State Building was holding a conference." Axel obliged, his smile doing things to Roxas that he didn't understand. "The Defence and Security Equipment International weapons conference is the largest arms fair on the planet, featuring state-of-the-art vehicles, firearms, protective equipment and communications technology. That year, they decided to hold it in Manhattan. That decision saved our skins."

"It was a god send." A voice echoed down from the stairs Roxas hadn't seen. "Well, well...a new face. Welcome to Castle Oblivion."

The man was taller than Roxas, but a few noticeable inches shorter than Axel. Silver hair with a bluish sheen swept over one eye as the man stepped forward, his face masked by a blank expression. Under one arm he held a book thick enough to crack skulls.

"This is Zexion, he was head of research and development in weapons and artillery for DSEI. Fuckin' genius, he is." Axel shoved the man playfully. Zexion did a small roll of his eyes and gathered himself up, checking his white suit for wrinkles after the contact. Roxas could tell this man wasn't as touchy-friendly as Axel seemed to be.

"What's your name, boy?" Zexion asked calmly, ignoring Axel completely.

The blond teen hesitated, trust not an easy thing to give so soon after two years of solitude. After a second or two, he gathered up his resolve and decided to trust once again in humans, immediately feeling the effects as a weight of responsibility lifted off his shoulders. He wasn't alone any more.

"Roxas."

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Sorry for the very short chapter, I'm tired and I have an hour's sleep to get back. College finals are around the corner, so I may not update for a bit. I'll try to update regularly, but knowing me there will be times when I disappear of the face of the Earth. Please bear with me. Reviews help! A lot! Please tell me what you think, I love every message I get, and they inspire me to write more.


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